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Edition 59


A pale white sky

The limits of hubris

I REMEMBER A severe drought in 1964 when I was a child. First the grass became crisp and brown, as it always did in the summer. Then the soil cracked, as if there had been an earthquake. Slowly, the grass died in irregular patches, revealing the earth beneath. I watered the grass with used dishwater, but there was not enough. I heard the grown-ups talking about something called cloud seeding and I imagined a cloud with a small plant growing inside it. Some of my parents’ friends were all for the cloud seeding, but others said the rain, perhaps, would be too heavy. A few months later, I heard that although the seeding had been done, the clouds had dropped their rain over the sea. Or, maybe, had caused flooding in Haiti. The drought in Jamaica eventually broke, the cracks in the lawn closed and the grass reached out to... Read more

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From Griffith Review Edition 59: Commonwealth Now © Copyright Griffith University & the author.

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